


Under the Influence

by Wishfulthinking1979



Series: Hunting Scum and Villainy [3]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Loyalty, These three looking out for eachother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25880887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wishfulthinking1979/pseuds/Wishfulthinking1979
Summary: While trying to track down a spicer gang with a new kind of spice, Anakin gets dosed.
Series: Hunting Scum and Villainy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845904
Comments: 16
Kudos: 73





	Under the Influence

**Author's Note:**

> This one is just a little portrait of how well these three can work together when two of them aren't worried about Sith retribution anymore. And Anakin allowing himself friends once again.

Something was wrong with him.

He could still feel the Force but it was a bit like juggling with lightning. 

Still. 

He had the Force. 

“I have the Force,” he informed the slight man at his side, struggling to hold him up. 

“Yes, my Lord,” he panted. “Let’s keep moving forward—-Veers could you….?”

Another, taller man was helping steady his other side.

The contrast was notable. 

“You are very short,” he informed the first man and the other—- _ Veers _ ?—snorted.

“So you have noted, numerous times now, my Lord,” the short man said dryly. “Honestly, Max, can you not contain yourself at all? He’s the one who got dosed, not you!”

“You  _ are… _ ”

“Don’t say it Veers.”

He felt so strange---as though he was under water even though, vaguely, he knew he wasn’t. He looked up as a bird flew overhead. He liked flying too.

“Flying is excellent,” he told the bird. He wondered if he could fly as well….

“Kriffing….! My Lord,” said one of his temporary supports. Gears? Spears?  _ Veers _ . That was it. “Please don’t levitate. We’re trying to get you to the shuttle.”

He had levitated? Could he  _ fly _ ?

“Can I fly?” he asked the universe. 

“My Lord,” the shorter voice said, “you are rather….unwell at the moment. I wouldn’t advise flying.”   
  


“I don’t think he meant the shuttle, Firmus.”

“Hells,” moaned the short man. “ _ Can _ Jedi fly?”

“A Jedi,” he informed the short man solemnly, “can do  _ all _ the things.”

The short man smiled slightly. He had a good smile--it was kind. 

“Very good, my Lord.”

They struggled on. Why was it a struggle?   
  


“Why is this a struggle?” he asked the two men.

“Because they somehow managed to give you a dose of this damned spice, my Lord,” replied the taller one.

“What spice, Years?”   
  


“Veers, sir.”   
  


“Are you the taller one?”   
  


“For kriff’s sake….! That is, my Lord,  _ please _ , my name is Piett. Or Admiral.”

“Yes,” Veers replied, grinning widely, “I’m the taller one.”

He could keep this straight. They weren’t walking straight.

“Why aren’t we walking straight?”

“Because, my Lord,” the short one panted, “you are heavy and having a hard time focusing.”

“You are rather short,” he commented, feeling sympathetic. “Perhaps we should take a break.”

A long suffering sigh. It sounded familiar. 

“We need to keep going, my Lord. We can’t be caught out here.” The short one had courage. Steadfast. The Lady called him ‘true-steel’. The Lady? Was she here?   
  


“Is the Lady here?” he asked.

“No, my Lord. We took a shuttle. But we are returning to her.”

That was good. She hated being without her Admiral. 

“The Lady says you are ‘true-steel’. She gets angry with me sometimes….”

The short one paused and they all stumbled.

“Sorry,” he said. “What do you mean, my Lord?”   
  


He leaned toward the short one, conspiratorially. “You’re her favorite. I hurt you once. Didn’t mean to. She sent all the droids to fight me.* Soooooo angry.”

Veers chuckled. “Well. Have that confirmed then. As though we needed it.”

The short one sighed, but looked pleased. 

“That’s….very kind.”

A thought hit his brain as they staggered on. 

“Are you the Admiral?”

The smile again. “Yes, my Lord. Are you remembering now?”

“Gears says you are the best of us.”

A pause as the short one looked across to the taller one.

“Do you mean Veers, sir?”

“What I said.”

“Mm. Well thank you, General.”

“My Lord, you should conserve your strength, perhaps stop talking….?”

“ _ You’re _ talking.” Obviously.

“Ah…”

“You see? That was you again.”

A chuckle from the short one this time.

“He’s got you there, Max.”

“I thought we were taking this seriously,  _ Admiral _ .”

He doesn’t remember things for a while.

When he came to himself next, it was dim and he couldn’t see well.

_ What happened? Had he been captured? By whom? _

Anakin shifted and there was a movement near him. 

“My Lord…?”

A surge of panic rose in him and he lashed out, connecting hard with…..something.

“Son of a  _ Hutt _ !”   
  


“Firmus!”

Anakin sat up and felt ill. There was a hand on his back and a shuttle air sick bag was thrust in front of him. 

“It’s all right, my Lord. Don’t  _ fuss _ , Veers, I’ll be fine.”

An indignant snort sounded off to his left.

“That fist is durasteel, you are  _ not… _ .”

Anakin was sick and missed the rest. 

“....we should comm Henley?” Veers. That was the General.

“They  _ cannot _ see him like this, Max. His temperature is going down. I think it’s purging.” And that was Piett. It was his hand on his back, and he was moving the sick bag away to replace it with a water bottle.

“I can….drink….myself, Admiral.”   
  


“My Lord?” he sounded cautious. “Are you, ah, with us again?”

  
  
Anakin took careful sips of water and looked around. They were in the lamda. He was sitting on the floor, but he had been lying there on both of their jackets. Piett was on his knees beside him and Veers was a little further away, both watching him carefully. 

“I think so. What happened?”

They glanced at each other.

“Just tell me, gentlemen.”

“Sir,” said Veers, “Somehow you got dosed with the spice we’ve been trying to track down. They almost got you sir.”

He considered this.

“I presume your intervention prevented that.”

“Yes, sir, just. But they got away and I apologize we were not able to track them.”

He nodded. “Thank you for getting me.”   
  


“My Lord, I hope you don’t mind the presumption, but we did get a blood sample from you earlier. So we can test the spice and then we’ll be able to track this particular blend.”

He looked at Piett. “That was quick thinking, Admiral. Well do-----what the  _ hell _ happened to your  _ face _ ?”

Piett glanced swiftly to Veers and then back at him. The Admiral’s right side was swollen and bruised---likely a fractured cheek bone---from a bad blow. 

“Casualty of this sort of….” he began, but Anakin stopped him, feeling ill for different reasons. 

“Piett.”   
  


His Admiral shifted uncomfortably. 

“Sir. You didn’t know who we were. I should have been more cautious….”

He had done that. Directly. In all their years of serving together, Anakin had never intentionally harmed his Admiral and certainly not with his own hand.

“I….am so sorry, Piett.”

The man was flushing, and Anakin realized that Veers was rummaging in their medkit. 

“Please tell me you’re looking for a painkiller, General. My prosthetics are durasteel.  _ Force _ , Piett, I ….”   
  


“My Lord.” The Admiral stopped him with a hand on his arm. “You weren’t trying to hurt me. You were trying to defend yourself. Any of us would have done that. You just happen to be made of metal.” He gave a slight smile and Veers injected the hypospray into his friend’s neck.

“Thanks, Max.”

“We should get back to the Lady. You need Henley to look at….”

“We will, my Lord,” said Veers coming around in front of him, and handing Piett a cold pack. “Once we’re sure you’re feeling more yourself. We didn’t want you to have unpleasant questions---well from anyone other than the Doctor, and he’s always unpleasant, so….”

Anakin smiled slightly. These two. Looking out for his well being in every way, when he could not.

“I can’t thank you both enough. I hope I wasn’t too…...awkward.”

Both smiled at him.

“No more than usual, my Lord,” said Piett solemnly and Anakin looked at him sharply.

“Did you just…...insult me, Piett?”   
  


His Admiral raised an elegant eyebrow and the General actually laughed. Veers had a nice laugh, Anakin reflected, and he never would have heard it had he continued to wallow in the Dark Side. 

“I was merely reassuring you, my Lord,” said Piett with that slight quirk to his mouth that meant he was _absolutely_ insulting him, and wasn’t that a small miracle. 

“Gentlemen, I hope you both know how much I…”

“We know, my Lord,” said Veers calmly. “You would do the same for us.”

“I’ll need to pilot us back, however,” said the Admiral, looking apologetic.

Anakin sighed and rose unsteadily to his feet, the others following suit. 

“Yes, I think you must. Don’t think however,” he said wagging a finger at Piett, “to make a habit of it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” replied his Admiral.

**Author's Note:**

> *Forging Ahead. Chapter 71


End file.
